


Building Blessings

by FoxoftheDesert



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Emma and Ruby's super sweet friendship, Emma is a kickass carpenter, F/F, F/M, Family Feels, Friendship, Hook being a kickass uncle, RedQueen, Regina is secretly fond of Hook, Which makes sense because she's a Savior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-15
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-06-02 11:50:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6564991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoxoftheDesert/pseuds/FoxoftheDesert
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU belonging to The Price of Destiny Universe but might can be read as a stand alone.  Ruby has decided to build Regina something for her anniversary present, and the project gets the CaptainSwan and RedQueen gang together.  This is a one-shot that turned into a monster because I am incapable of writing less than 2k words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Two Little Sailors and Their Captain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hook interacts with Regina and Ruby's kids, and through the lens of his relationship with them, we get a glimpse into what turns a pirate into a big ole softy.

Killian Jones is unsure whether to be bemused by his predicament or concerned about the status of his head in relation to his general desire to keep it attached to his neck. He'd been tasked by the Queen with a mission of the utmost importance, and the two precocious rascals before him are doing their damnedest to make sure he fails. He wracks his brain for a solution to his dilemma.

“Capt'n Jones,” the black-headed one says, lisping the 's' due to a prominent lack of her two front teeth. “What be yer orders, sir?” Dressed the part of a good little sailor, she is proud and erect under his scrutiny, the perfect picture of composure, and oh so very much like her mother. Her fellow crew mate is similarly eager in awaiting instructions, though the brunette is much more buoyant, a trait she also has inherited.

Killian sighs dramatically, unable to wholly smother his smile. If the twin four-year-olds weren't so damn adorable, he would have been long since exasperated by their refusal to heed his repeated warnings that it was high past time for them to take their naps. The little buggers were supposed to have been down over half an hour ago, but had begged him in the way only they could, what with their big eyes, pouty lips, and all-too-convincing pleas for one last 'adventure' around the Seven Seas of their spacious home. Like usual, Killian was powerless to refuse them, but now he finds himself regretting his lack of gumption, glancing over his shoulder every two minutes as he wonders when their mother is going to venture in from outside in order to put her foot down. He would very much prefer that not happen since Regina had been wearing heels earlier when he and Emma arrived. Killian does not want to find out what those impressively long spikes will feel like pressed threateningly against his noggin.

Still fumbling pathetically about for some method to convince his favorite first mates to acquiesce to their scheduled afternoon siestas, he paces before them, stalling for time. To lend an air of a mock inspection of his crew, he taps his chin slowly. Thirty seconds pass in indecision, and the girls began to fidget in place as they wait for his deliberations to end. Cursing himself for his lack of a solution, he is just about to resort to begging their compliance when it finally hits him. He grins triumphantly.

“Oy, mates,” he says, putting on a thick pirate accent that is as fake as their pretend uniforms – eye patches included. “Do either of ya recall the first rule of bein' an effective first mate?”

“No, Cap'n,” the brunette girl replies, owlish as she peers up at him with her forest green eyes. “What be the first rule?” Her raven haired sister nods along in concert with the question, her equally brilliant brown irises on full display.

He gestures to them with his hooked hand, laying it on thick that this 'rule' is incredibly serious and therefore not to be taken lightly. “Well,” he drawls with similar severity, “the first rule of being a good first mate is to always obey the captain's commands. And this particular captain requires his crew to be well rested. It's no good at all if my best sailors are falling asleep on duty. I need both of ya well-rested, rip-roarin' and ready to go should the Royal Navy catch up with us! So with that said, I, as your most esteemed captain, am ordering the both of ya to bunk down.”

Just for a split second it appears like the amusingly-yet-also-frustratingly stubborn children are going to argue with him, but he gives them a non-intimidating scowl to prevent their protests. “I say, neither of you lot would dare break the first rule and disobey your captain, would ya?”

Chorusing cries of apology ring out instantly. “No, Cap'n!” and “S-sorry, Cap'n!”

“Well, then,” he raises a brow dramatically, pointing toward the stairs, “get to your cabin posthaste, ya scoundrels!”

“Aye, aye, sir!” they both sing out, and then scurry away toward the stairs. Killian chuckles under his breath as he watches them go, curls bouncing as they run. 

He loves those kids far more than he should considering they were not his own, but the Mills children have a way of ingratiating themselves to any and all adults they encounter. Even Regina's staunchest opponents have a tendency to melt at the sight of her two undeniably adorable daughters, unable to maintain their dour frowns when confronted by so much youthful energy and winsome naivete. Killian himself is especially susceptible to their charisma, being that they seem to think he is a man of extraordinary character deserving of their affection. Although he does not agree with their assessment of him, he cannot fathom extricating himself from their lives. They are not his own, but he loves them much the same as if they were. 

Killian Jones the centuries old pirate has not yet gotten used to children taking such a shine to him. Back in the Enchanted Forest, children grew up hearing sordid tales about pirates and their backstabbing, malicious, and murderous ways, that they weren't to be trusted and were never to be approached for any reason at all lest they find themselves abducted and pressed into slavery aboard some filthy pirate ship. Pirates were almost universally seen as wicked individuals whose aversion to law and order was a threat to a deeply ingrained way of life, and Killian had never bothered to dissent against that stereotype because in large part he knew it to be true. 

Thus, whenever he and his crew entered towns for a furlough, they tended to frighten the young folk and their overprotective parents indoors. Mostly that primal fear suited him just fine. He never ventured into populated areas to socialize with responsible adults or to entertain their annoying tykes with tall tales of daring-do, after all. He was there only to distract himself from his woes by carousing with the most attractive lady he could find who was amiable to his company.

But for whatever reason, Sophia and Amelia Mills are as fearless as they are innocent. He supposes his own more rounded edges of late might have something to do with their positive view of him, but the most likely culprit to explain their lack of wariness is their genealogy – although even that admittedly falls suspect when considering one half of their parentage barely tolerates his existence. Thankfully Regina's daughters do not share her general disapproval of him.

Regina's distaste of her children's interest in all things pirate is restrained by their much kinder mother's opinion; Ruby thinks that it is sweet, a sentiment with which Killian is wholly agreed, even if he does understand Regina's perspective. Still, he is glad to use his wife's closest friend as a shield so long as it keeps Regina off his back. The Queen might be rehabilitated, but she is still scary as all hell. 

Even so, Killian does not let Regina's opinion deter him from playing the cool uncle, and he does it with aplomb. The girls seem to hang on to every word he speaks whenever he has been successfully coaxed – and to be fair it doesn't require much effort on their parts – into regaling them with a censored version of one of the many grand adventures he has embarked upon aboard the Jolly Roger during his long life at sea. They especially love stories of his encounters with the legendary monsters that inhabit the oceans of the Enchanted Forest and Neverland, and of the many battles, both at sea and aground, that he'd fought. Whenever he launches into a colorful recounting, they invariably gather at his feet, spellbound as if his voice is the loom of the gods, weaving a yarn so vivid and compelling that all else ceases to exist until it the tapestry of his design has been successfully completed. 

Sophia and Amelia adore Killian, and he, being an ex-pirate whose ego has never diminished, absolutely eats it up. As such, he never misses an opportunity to spoil them when he can, whether by indulging them with an eyewitness account of the great white whale of the Adronica Sea, or by sneaking them gifts in the form of trinkets from aboard the Jolly Roger, such as authentic nautical compasses and even a spare sextant he'd acquired in a favorable trade with Bart Roberts. 

He sighs fondly as he hears their laughter ringing from atop the stair case, and with a smile on his face, makes his way up as well. After joining them in their bedroom-slash-cabin, Killian helps them to get their boots off and then leaves them to changing out of their pirate outfits while he goes downstairs to chug a glass of water – chasing after two rambunctious kids with boundless stores of energy is much harder work than it appears. Those rascals could give his most youthful crews a run for their money. He only returns upstairs when hears them calling for him in their overly dramatic way.

“Uncle Killllleeeeeeeaaaan!” It amuses him that the second they are out of their faux pirate garb, he is back to Uncle Killian. He finds that he much prefers that to Captain Hook these days.

He bounds up the stairs and makes quick work of the hallway. Once he reenters their bedroom, he finds Sophie and Amie waiting for him at the foot of their bed, dressed for their naps in shorts and t-shirts that fit their personalities. Amelia, ever the proactive risk taker like her taller mother, is wearing a Supergirl themed get-up, while Sophia, the more cautious and deliberate child, is wearing white shorts and a black t-shirt proudly stating in bold white letters that “My Mommy Is My Hero.” He grins at the all-too-appropriate sight in a way that does not befit his former reputation. 

“Now, little ones,” he says as he fetches a chair from over against the wall and moves it next to the bed, “lie down and close your eyes. Empty your minds of your present cares, and sail into the warm embrace of a gentle slumber. And do not fear, for your captain will watch over you until you are dreaming of orange sunsets and of the gently rolling waves of the ocean.”

After tucking them in and giving them both tender kisses to their foreheads, he sits and crosses his legs, gazing upon them with an almost awestruck wonder. Before Sophia and Amelia were born, Killian had never thought much of having kids of his own. Being that his own father was a deadbeat bastard who sold his sons to purchase his own freedom, Killian had only briefly entertained the possibility before meeting Milah, and that only because his brother's nobility had given him hope they were not defined by their father's cowardice, but by their actions. And while Milah made for a thrilling companion in more than one way, the inescapable pain she had brought upon herself by walking away from her son altered his perception of parenthood once again. 

The toll leaving Baelfire took on Milah made Killian realize that children were a stone bound around a person's neck that would eventually sink them into the depths and drown them. No matter how far a person ran, no matter how much they drank or consumed themselves with work or debauchery or criminal pursuits, the chain holding that stone could never be broken – it was made of sterner stuff than the memory was capable of deteriorating. 

Never had he considered that one day he might want that stone hanging about his neck, as it hadn't seemed possible for anything to be worth the burdens that come with it. But then he met Emma, and he saw how much strength she derived from Henry, and how it was much the same for Regina. And when Sophia and Amelia were born healthy, whole and beautiful in spite of the hell their mothers had gone through to bring them into the world, he couldn't help but be swayed by the argument the universe seemed to be presenting. 

In the light of so much evidence to the contrary, all of those years that he had viewed children as a suffocating tax on freedom suddenly seemed to have been wasted in believing a grievous falsehood. The realization shed new light on his entire relationship with Milah, helping him to see that what he had with her was not anything close to what he was building with Emma. For as much as he had loved Milah, she was a selfish woman who had chosen her desires over her own flesh and blood. Baelfire, he could now see, was not the cause of Milah's suffering, nor was the Crocodile wholly to blame for that matter (a painful realization if ever there was one for Killian Jones), but Milah herself. She had chosen poorly and paid the price for it.

And that is why he can look at the two angelic babies – and that is what they are to him, mere babes just starting their long journeys through life – sleeping within arms reach, and allow himself to feel the emotions they evoke without being choked to the point of panic. Amelia and Sophia have come to represent Killian's own future, and the hope that one day he can have what Ruby and Regina have with Emma. 

But even more so, he simply loves them for their own sake. They are, to him, more precious than his age old desire to maintain a freedom from responsibility and are worth far more than any fair treasure that ever enthralled the heart of a pirate who once dictated his life according to the pursuit of it. 

With moisture biting at his eyelids, he takes a deep breath and whispers a prayer to the stars above that they will watch over his most beloved little sailors when he cannot and that they will be guided inexorably toward a happy ending all their own. 

“Sleep well, my bonny lasses,” he whispers, smiling softly, and then settles down into the chair to get comfortable. There, he makes good on his promise to stay with them, not leaving their bedside until both are sound asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so a couple of things with this one. First of all, I love Hook. I know a lot of the fandom has a problem with him, but I happen to think he's awesome. In fact, he's pretty much the only reason I'm still watching the show. And I happen to think that he would be the best kind of uncle, ya know? The kind that can tell fantastic stories that capture the imaginations of kids. So this is where that came from.
> 
> Secondly, this was an experiment with present tense. I've written in it before, but I thought it would make a nice way to juxtapose the two long works that will inhabit this collection from the little one shots or short stories I add. Let me know if y'all think that's a good idea or if I should switch back to past tense.
> 
> Lastly, God, I can't write little ditties. I just can't. I started this out to be a short 4k-ish story hitting each perspective of the major 4 character, and I failed so hard. Anyway. Hope y'all enjoy this! I might alter the tags as I post the next 3 chapters of the new couple of weeks. 
> 
> Later, y'all!


	2. A Queen's Prerogative

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regina counts her blessings as she interacts with Hook and watches Emma and Ruby work on their little project in her back yard.

Biting back a yawn, Regina stretches her arms out over her head and then breathes in the fresh summer air. She releases the air from her lungs in a prolonged but satisfied sigh, relishing in the feeling of contentment that has encompassed her body from head to toe. She adjusts her sunglasses against the glare of the sun overhead, settling deeper into her lounge chair and crossing her legs at the ankles as a delicious warmth seeps down into her bones. She is glad that chose to don an airy sundress, or else she would be roasting. As it is, the heat is welcome on the exposed skin on her shoulders, arms, and legs and she knows that thanks to her complexion, she will soon enough be sporting a tan that Ruby will grumble about good-naturedly – albeit tinged with some admittedly genuine envy.

 

Eyes forward, she watches the activity going on in her back yard, and she can't help but smile. Happiness pervades her existence of an intensity and familiarity that she had never thought to experience. At times, she doesn't quite know how to handle processing how much she has been given, but now is not one of those times. Now, she is simply grateful to be so blessed.

 

When she hears the door open a moment later, she doesn't even bother to turn her eyes up. She knows who it is.

 

“You are an hour late, Captain Pushover,” she comments, voice stern but lacking any real anger. “I don't know why I'm surprised. You've yet to have them down for a nap on time.”

 

Hook gives a rueful chuckle as he moves across the patio. “Aye,” he replies upon arriving at the chair to her left. After settling himself into it, legs perpendicular to the chair, he grins over at her. “I would apologize, but I'm afraid I was outnumbered and outgunned. Those pouts are lethal weapons that ought to be registered.”

 

Regina smirks, amused that the former hardened pirate is as big a sucker for her daughter's pouting as their more easily manipulated brunette mother. Regina is not quite so affected anymore, having developed a semi-immunity to the bewitching expression they had inherited solely from Ruby after so many years of exposure. But whereas Ruby can stand her ground when she needs to, Hook caves like an unstable tunnel after a massive earthquake. Those girls have him wrapped helplessly around their little fingers, and they take advantage of that without mercy.

 

In a way, she is proud of them for it. The Queen in her celebrates that her children are learning how to manipulate people into doing what they want at such a tender age, but the mother in her quakes with trepidation. Trouble, she knows, lies ahead in the years to come, and many gray hairs that she is not at all prepared for, even if Ruby insists they will only add to her dignified aura and “general hotness.”

 

“I had to get creative to convince them to take their naps,” Hook then adds, lips still crooked up at the edges.

 

“I imagine so,” Regina replies, knowing how the girls never let up when their favorite swashbuckling 'uncle' is around.

 

Killian Jones is a mega-rebel-rock-star to Sophia and Amelia, and they take every opportunity to wrangle him into whatever mischief they can conceive of. Emma's roguish spouse is normally a willing participant, but every now and then he casts pleading glances over his shoulder as he is being lead away by his namesake appendage to an hours worth of being the center of attention for two little girls who love girly things almost as much as they love raucous adventure. No one ever comes to his rescue, not that he complains. On those rare occasions he puts up a front of reluctance, he always reappears looking rejuvenated for his brief but meaningful sacrifice.

 

Regina used to be bothered by how Hook doted on the girls and by how much they adored him in turn, but over time she has warmed up a bit to the ex-pirate. She still does not quite understand what Emma sees in him, but his interactions with Sophia and Amelia are generally charming and always leave Regina's daughters happier than they were before he arrived. No matter what she thinks of the man personally, she cannot complain about those kinds of results.

 

It seems to her that Sophia and Amelia have brought out a paternal side in Hook that he had never so openly shown before. The only times Regina ever got glimpses of the fatherly heart beating inside the Captain's chest was when he spoke of young Baelfire's time aboard the Jolly Roger. But even then, he was always reserved, only allowing his warm affections to be seen in his timbre of speech and by the gleam in his eyes. And although she had seen those hints of tenderness, she never would have guessed the man to be so adept at entertaining two girls whose theatrics could be overwhelming to their own parents. But like an old pro, he gracefully attends tea parties with a full complement of Barbies and leads epic raids against formidable pillow fortresses aboard a childishly fashioned cardboard Jolly Roger.

 

Regina certainly would never have imagined being copacetic with someone of Hook's past reputation babysitting her children as often as he did, but his easy rapport with them went a long way toward easing her mind. And besides that, if she had objected to Hook spending time with her kids, it would have made her into a loathsome hypocrite. After all, she had committed atrocities that were far worse in both degree and quantity, and yet by some miracle of the universe had been given the enormous privilege of being the mother of three beautiful and remarkable children. How could she say no, then, when she knows Hook has worked every bit as hard to change as she has?

 

But just because Regina has actually formed a fond respect for Killian Jones does not mean she has to clue him in on her shifting opinions. It is, after all, a Queen's prerogative to change her mind at her own discretion, and to declare her sentiments at her own whims.

 

Nudging her sunglasses down, she catches his eyes over top of them. “How long ago did they go down?”

 

“About five minutes ago,” he answers as he stretches himself out. Flinging his arms back behind his head, he settles into a comfortable lounging position as if he belongs there, which with as much time as he and Emma spend around the Mills household, Regina cannot object to. “I hung around to be sure,” he then adds, squinting a bit due to the sun. He shades his eyes with his forearm. “I promised I'd stay with them until they fell asleep, and a captain never breaks a promise to his crew.”

 

“Not an honorable one anyway,” Regina says, turning away to deliberately hide her smile so as not to alert him to her softening expression.

 

Good man or not, Hook still has a pirate's ego that requires being kept in check. Incidentally, this is why Regina thinks Emma is so perfectly suited for him. Swan does not put up with his crap, and neither does Regina for that matter. She is fairly certain he appreciates that about her, but doesn't care to ask. Whether he appreciates it or not, she will keep knocking the shine off of his boots from time to time, just as she knows he will do the same for her. As former villains, they have that mutual but unspoken understanding.

 

“Very true,” he replies, and she can hear his preening grin. “It was a most excellent example of showing good form. Well done, me.”

 

Regina rolls her eyes at Hook's aforementioned ego, but does not otherwise respond to his comment. She chooses instead to refocus on the intriguing activity going on in her back yard.

 

Silence settles between the two, pleasant as the clear skies of the beautiful summer day Storybrooke is experiencing. Unfortunately, much according to her expectations, it is to be temporary. Hook is an accomplished conversationalist, much like Ruby, and is allergic to silence the same way a person who suffers from peanut induced anaphylaxis would be to a Snickers bar.

 

“Quite a view, isn't?” he muses a minute later, drawing her attention.

 

Regina shifts her head to see Hook shamelessly staring at the enticing sight before him. She does not chastise him because she has been engaged in a similar observation for the lion's share of the afternoon, just with more subtlety than the tactless sailor seems to possess.

 

She returns her gaze to her back yard, where not fifty feet away, two very fine women who just so happened to be their respective spouses are putting on a show, hauling a sizable beam between them for a construction project they are tackling in tandem. For once, Regina is sympathetic to the metrosexual pirate's lack of discretion. It is incredibly difficult _not_ to ogle the beautiful women who are currently presenting an image worthy of storing into memory for later recollection. 

 

Seeing as it is summer and the work being done is physically demanding, both women have opted to dress appropriately – or at least what Ruby and Emma would consider as appropriate. Regina is not overly thrilled at her wife's current lack of modest clothing, but at the same time, she is very much enjoying watching Ruby's muscles flex and ripple with every step she takes under the sizable load. Regina bites her lip, quite thoroughly affected.

 

Both Ruby and Emma have chosen skimpy pairs of shorts – Emma in cut-off jeans and Ruby in cargo shorts – that leave most if not all of their toned legs uncovered, and their carpenter's belts are slung low on their waists, hammers dangling from metal hooks therein. Furthermore, whereas Ruby's brown hair is pulled back into a pony tail beneath a backwards facing Red Sox cap, Emma's blonde mane is braided down her back and covered halfway by a red bandana folded into a triangular shape. A pair of brass rimmed aviators obscures Ruby's green eyes from view, while Emma has selected a more modernized, sporty pair of red framed sunglasses. In all, their sartorial choices give them the appearance that they are employed construction workers who take far too much pleasure in giving the men around them aching jaws and dry eyes from gawking. The effect is especially arresting now that they have divested themselves of the tank-tops they had both started work in earlier that morning. Now, only their red and white bikini tops maintain their decency from the waist up.

 

The scene is oddly and yet tantalizingly reminiscent of the corny plot to a pornographic film in which two working girls seduce the professional couple lounging outside via their toil under the broiling sun. She can almost imagine the scenario, both women making sure their audience enjoys a good show as they bend over to pick up a stray nail or tantalizingly suck at a digit that was accidentally nicked by a stray strike from a tool. Naturally, this would go on until the temptation became untenable for their employers. Sexual hijinks would then ensue.

 

That the neighbors are likely getting an eyeful right along with Regina and Hook hardly seems relevant as Regina watches through hooded eyes while a bead of sweat trickles down the mostly exposed valley between Ruby's breasts. Entranced, she is unable to tear her eyes away as it meanders around the pendant Zelena had made to conceal Ruby's scars, only to slip beneath the string linking the two scant pieces of fabric constituting the bikini top and then roll down the flat planes of Ruby's glistening stomach.

 

By this time, Ruby has moved to another area and is holding a 2x4 stud in place against an outer wall. Her entire body strains beneath the powerful stroke of a hammer blow as she secures the board in place. One swing given, one nail driven, followed by a wipe of her hand across her damp cheeks, and then another swing and another nail driven. Two more beads of sweat trail down her stomach, bringing with them unbidden images that pop up in Regina's mind of licking every last drop of sweat up from her wife's svelte body as those talented hands and deceptively strong arms work their magic on her rather than on the wooden studs. The fantasy is so deliciously vivid that she shudders.

 

“Yes, it most certainly is,” she then agrees in response to Hook's comment, voice a bit scratchy from the sudden onset of arousal that she is presently resisting with all of her might. “Quite a view, indeed.”

 

To take her mind off of ravishing Ruby, Regina turns her attention to study Emma and is stricken once again by the Savior's good looks. The woman really is gorgeous. Regina has always been aware of Emma's allure, what with her ridiculous cheek bones and cleft chin and her ridiculous mane of blonde princess curls; but the way Emma's white bikini top has left her well-defined set of six pack abs on full display only reinforces that assessment with marked punctuation. With Emma's sun-kissed skin glowing golden in the sunlight, Regina finds it impossible to deny the woman a place among the pantheon of all time human beauty. That beauty in Emma's case is both internal and external, is rivaled by few, and in Regina's opinion surpassed only by Ruby.

 

That thought, along with the way Ruby and Emma are laughing and bumping shoulders as they work so seamlessly together elicits considerations of how close the pair of fondest friends had actually come to falling in love with each other. It is a good thing, Regina believes, that events had conspired to stop that particular train from leaving the station. For as Hook had once so crudely but accurately stated upon that very topic coming up between them, “ _that much hotness together would have set the damn town on fire._ ” Regina hadn't disagreed with him then, and from what she is currently witnessing, she _really_ can't now.

 

“We're a couple of right lucky bastards, you and I,” Hook then says, echoing Regina's resultant thoughts.

 

Somehow, two of the most unworthy people alive had wound up being loved by two of the most worthy. Cosmically, their relationships make no sense, and rationally even less; yet this is the reality that both Regina and Hook live in, and whereas those of lesser confidence would allow their insecurities to hamper enjoyment of their lives, both Regina and Hook realize they have it far too good to complain.

 

“That we are, Captain,” she agrees wholeheartedly. Deciding to change the subject before the conversation veers too far into a heavy topic, she gazes upon her scruffy, bearded, and one-handed companion. “So, why aren't you out there helping them? There they are, slaving away under the summer sun while you are lounging around watching them work.”

 

“Why aren't you?” he counters, eyes crinkled at the corners.

 

Regina chuckles. Hook is cheeky as always, but spot on. “Touché. I offered to help, believe me, but Ruby insisted that I would, ' _only get in the way_ ,' and that she really could have learned to do this all by herself. But, according to her, having Emma lend a hand would expedite the process since she purportedly knows what she's doing. I've learned that when Ruby gets that way about something, it's best to not argue with her.”

 

Killian nods as if he has experience with that kind of stubbornness, which is not surprising. Emma can be mulish when she wants to be. “The same,” he says, “although there were pointed references to my lack of two hands among Emma's generally excited assurances that she loved this kind of thing. Said it had been too long since she got to build something with her own two hands. Apparently back in Boston she volunteered for Habitat for Humanity on occasion, and also did some remodeling work in her downtime.”

 

Regina is unexpectedly impressed at the information and her expression reflects that. “I didn't know that.”

 

Hook shrugs, turning soft eyes back to his wife who was now atop a ladder leveling one end of the structural ridge beam that runs down the center of the roof. Ruby is on the other end, holding it steady and making adjustments as Emma calls them out. Aside from the attractiveness of the workers, it is actually interesting for Regina to watch how they have gone about assembling the structure. Emma's knowledgeability is quite extensive.

 

“She doesn't like to advertise such things,” Hook then adds. “She's humble that way – unlike me, not that I've ever been the charitable type. Spent most of my time being selfish, before and after Milah. Loving Emma was the first truly selfless thing I did since my brother died.”

 

“As was I before Henry,” Regina replies, watching Emma wield her air-powered nail gun to secure the ridge beam into place against the temporary scaffolding built to hold it up until the roof joists are installed. The noise of the gun firing crackles through the air. “Even after I adopted him, I had my moments, especially after the curse broke. I suppose I will always struggle with the part of myself that is only concerned with what's good for me, with what I want. Thankfully Ruby is a patient and forgiving person. Sometimes I worry about her, though. She gives and gives and rarely ever thinks of herself.”

 

“Aye,” Killian replies with a deep understanding upon which he soon elaborates. “It's why they,” he gestures toward Emma and Ruby, “get along so well. Emma's a giver, too, so they can give to each other without running either of them dry. I'm glad they have that kind of symbiosis.”

 

“Are you really?” Regina inquires. There are still times, scant as they are, in which she struggles with the intimate friendship that exists between Ruby and Emma, and as Hook was not known to be a magnanimous man with the attention of his lovers, she is genuinely curious to know his opinion.

 

His head falling sideways, Hook gives Regina a roguish grin. “Of course.” When she continues to stare at him, he chuckles lightly. “I'm not blind, your Majesty. I've seen those glimpses into the past with the way Emma, on very rare occasions, looks at Ruby. It was the same way she looked at Bae. Well...almost. She doesn't really like to talk about it, but I always assumed there was something between them long before I arrived in town.”

 

Regina's brow raises at Hook's honesty. Although she has asked him the question, she'd anticipated that he would play it off and dismiss any concerns. It's refreshing to hear such honesty out of him.

 

“There wasn't,” she tells him, “but there could have been. According to Ruby, Emma pulled away before they got that close, but she had thought their friendship was headed in that direction.”

 

“Makes sense,” he nods. “Given the way Emma was, I could see her withdrawing. It took her a long time to get past her skittishness with being close to people. I'm glad Ruby was there, though, that she didn't give up on Emma like she could have when I'm sure that she was confused and hurt by Emma's behavior.”

 

“It did hurt her,” Regina replies. “But Ruby is not the type of person to give up on her friends. Having said that, doesn't bother it you sometimes that things could have turned out very differently?”

 

When he shakes his head in the negative, Regina fixes him with a dubious look, causing him to amend his assured gesture with a slight shrug.

 

“Only if I let it,” he admits after a moment. “I could lie, but I won't. It gets to me every now and again. They spend almost every day working together and still it doesn't seem enough sometimes. But then I remind myself of who Emma is and what she stands for. If there is one thing I know about her for sure, it is that she is faithful. Emma does things all the way, so she wouldn't be with me if she didn't love me with all of her heart.

 

“The reality I've had to accept, hard as it was at first, is that two people cannot be everything to each other. We're more complex creatures than that. So while Emma's friendship with Ruby fulfills something for her that I can't, it is not a threat to our relationship. It might seem so if I allow myself to feel insecure, but I choose to trust her every day, to give her the space outside of us that she needs to breathe. Does that make sense?”

 

The depth of his analysis catches Regina a little off guard, but even so, she respects the sagacity of it as something she has had to come to terms with on her own. “It does, actually.” And she is being frank in admitting that, as she has come to the same conclusion as well.

 

As much as she loves Ruby, for instance, she still enjoys spending time with her friends. It's fun to hang out every now and then at the Rabbit Hole with Maleficent, Zelena, and the rest of the gang the town has affectionately dubbed, “The Scream Queens of Storybrooke.” With her friends, Regina can blow off some steam over drinks, share bawdy stories that would mortify Ruby, and reminisce without fear of judgment about the old times when people cowered in terror at the very mention of their names. With Kathryn, on the other hand, she can discuss deep subjects that fascinate her without worrying about being boring or sounding pretentious, or they can sit around and chat about the latest book they have read or the latest case Kathryn is working on and projects Regina is spearheading for the town.

 

Then there are the friends she shares in common with Ruby, such as Snow, Emma, and even Belle, who are the kind of people she can seek advice from knowing they always have her best interest at heart. At they same time, she also knows that they will not lie to her to make her feel better about the cruel things she still says and does sometimes. They are the friends she turns to when things go wrong in her life because they love her and have proven that love time and again over the years.

 

And while her friends do not in any way fulfill Regina the way that Ruby does, they do supplement her life, make it more rich and the better for their presence in it. Besides, it is not as if she can't talk to Ruby about those things either, because she can, and she knows that Ruby loves to be included in every facet of her life. Ruby is the light of Regina's life, but even the sun can become mundane with time, and every now and then it is simply nice to escape the ordinary with people who are different and interesting and not someone she sees every single day. It's the same, she knows, for Ruby.

 

“Begging your pardon, Regina,” Hook then speaks, breaking Regina's line of thought, “but I have to ask: given the question, does it bother _you_?”

 

At that, she gives him a conspiratorial smirk. “Only if I let it.”

 

Killian grins at the witty retort. “Well played, your Majesty!” And after Regina gives him a smirk and a gloating, “Why, thank you, Captain,” he then turns his attention back to Emma. Silence once again descends that actually lasts this time.

 

After a deep breath, Regina settles herself back into her lounger and returns to watching her magnificent wife heft a bundle of 2x6 boards across the yard, six deep on her left shoulder, and all by her lonesome. The inhumanly strong muscles in Ruby's shoulder and back strain to balance the long, hefty boards, leaving them prominently defined, and as she walks, her ponytail swishes to and fro beneath the brim of her backwards cap, and her tool belt clinks and jingles along with the captivating sway of her hips.

 

Once again, Regina is awestruck by how blessed she is. Her wife, whom she loves above all others, never fails to amaze and satisfy her in every way possible so that it is hard to imagine how she ever lived without Ruby's kisses and touches and sincerely offered words of encouragement and devotion. Aside from the experience of being pregnant, Regina has never felt closer to another human being as she does to Ruby when they make love; it is as if in those intimate moments they cease to be two people, as if something mystical beyond comprehension has bonded them together, fused their hearts and souls, merged their very essences together until they are constantly bleeding into one another. Rather than feeling suffocated as she probably should by such sensations, it is a relief to know that if she just closes her eyes and concentrates, she can feel Ruby's presence with her, even when they are miles apart.

 

It seems so ridiculous sometimes that it all started with a milkshake and a kind word from a waitress she'd not given thought to in decades. The universe, however, seems to have known what it was doing by guiding them into each others orbit. Gravitation pull took care of the rest. And now after so many years together, Ruby's love has become the constant foundation upon which Regina has built her life – their life together. And because of how unwavering that love is, she does not need to fear it ever collapsing due to catastrophic failure, for it has been tried and tested, put through the wringer in the worst way imaginable, and only come out the stronger for the pain they have endured. Ruby's love is the essential lifeblood of Regina's soul, and as proof of that half of her own heart currently resides inside Ruby's chest, beating to keep them both alive.

 

And what can she say about her children? Her children are her legacy and there are no words that can describe how much she loves them. Were she to make the attempt, she would fail to adequately express the meaning her children bring to her life.

 

Henry, her son, her pride and joy, causes her to smile just by thinking of him. All grown up now, he is out staking his claim on the world, and though she misses him terribly, she is so proud of him that she can barely contain herself whenever any conversation turns to him. The deep timbre of his voice serves as a balm to her nerves, and just a call from him can set her right of an evening after a long day of meetings and reading endless streams of contracts and proposals until her eyes are crossing and the words bleed together. It seems like just yesterday that she brought him home, scared witless at the responsibility of raising a child on her own, but she'd been reassured by Henry's quiet and thoughtful stare, as if he was telling her, “ _you can do this, and I believe in you.”_ And although Henry has now become a man in his own right, he will always be here baby, and he will never stop being her little prince.

 

And then there is Amelia and Sophia, her little girls, so precious and perfect in her eyes. Regina lives to hear their voices call out for her, loves to come home to the sounds of their playful bantering, and delights in their merry cackling as Ruby tickles them without remorse until all four of them are out of breath from laughter. Just a touch from their little fingers is enough to melt her heart. Every, “I love you, Mommy,” is enough to sustain her through the most God-awful days of being the mayor of a town permeated by magic and inhabited by fairy tale characters who often run amok. Those girls are her twin miracles, and Regina is grateful that she was chosen to be their mother. It is, she thinks (in concert with being Henry's Mom and Ruby's wife), the greatest honor to ever be bestowed upon her. As such, there is not a day that goes by that she does not tell them that she loves them at least a dozen times or smother them with kisses until they are squirming and protesting in her arms. As rambunctious as they are, as exasperated as she gets with them sometimes, they are her world and she will never tire of chasing after them like a chicken with its head cut off. In her opinion, a thousand lifetimes worth of raising them could never suffice, and it breaks her heart to know that she won't get that long.

 

As a whole, there is nothing more that she could possibly want above what she already has in the form of her family and her friends and the life she has built for herself here in Storybrooke, Maine. Regina Mills is happy above measure, content down to the marrow of her bones, and blessed far in excess of what any person could ever merit.

 

“ _Right lucky bastards, indeed, Captain_ ,” she muses internally, and then grins when Ruby glances back over her shoulder to give Regina an open-mouthed wink. With love for her wife suffusing her entire being, she blows a kiss in Ruby's direction, which Ruby pretends to catch with her free hand and then rubs tenderly into her cheek.

 

“ _I love my life,_ ” Regina comments to herself. And to be fair, who wouldn't in her place?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a lot to say on this one note wise besides I hope you all enjoyed this little look into Regina's mind regarding Hook and RedSwan friendship and her own life at present.
> 
> Next part will land next week and will be from the perspective of everyone's favorite Savior. See y'all then!


	3. A Lost Girl Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 3 of this Price of Destiny related ficlet. Lots of exposition and heavy RedSwan friendship involved here!

Behind the spotty cover of the open stud wall on the west side of the unfinished building, Emma motions with her head toward the patio. Eyes curiously fixed on her best friend, she watches the conversation between Regina and Hook out of her peripheral vision.

 

“Can you hear what they're saying?” she asks as Ruby nears.

 

Ruby rolls her eyes at the suspicious way Emma had referred to their respective spouses apparent commiseration. Emma notes that her friend is barely smothering a smile, not wanting to offend her by belittling her concern, even if it is admittedly irrational or unwarranted.

 

“I could if I tried,” Ruby replies. “But I'm blocking them out. Let them have their bonding time, nosy britches.”

 

Emma's expression morphs into mostly mock terror at Ruby's nonchalance. “Ruby…those two are the last people on earth we want bonding! It's bad enough that they tolerate each other and still manage to gang up on us. But what if, God forbid, they actually become partners in crime? Captain Hook and the Evil Queen in cahoots? Not good for us, my friend.”

 

Ruby chuckles indulgently at the dramatic interpretation of a Regina-slash-Hook tag team. “That might be true,” she counters, “but I'd rather they be on good terms than to have the kind of relationship Regina does with Gold. I don't get to hang out with Belle as often as I'd like because our spouses despise each other.”

 

Emma sighs in concession to Ruby's wisdom. “Point taken.” She decides to distract herself from any potential plots Regina and Killian might be hatching by going about the process of deciphering the cuts of the diagonal joists that will comprise the roof-line. After breaking out her tape measure, she stretches it out over the span from the ridge beam to the side wall her ladder is propped against, and then reads the length. “61 inches from short-to-short at 30 ½ degrees on the ends,” she calls out to Ruby.

 

Ruby nods that she has understood and then sets about fetching the 2x6's to cut from a pile nearby. Emma watches with keen interest as the werewolf tosses a load of lumber on her shoulders that no human could carry with such ease, and then carries them over to the sawhorses with little effort. Ruby's preternatural strength has always been a source of fascination for Emma, a woman who has long prided herself on maintaining a high level of physical fitness.

 

When she'd frequented gyms in Boston, Emma was often looked up in envy by other women for her natural weight-lifting abilities. She’s always been a bit stronger than most of her peers, a source of both fascination and mockery that prompted her to avoid embracing her gifts until she landed herself in jail. In such a foreboding and dangerous environment, her strength was an asset that served as a deterrent to those who might want to hurt her or recruit her for their own ends. Because her external toughness was matched by internal fortitude from a life of rejection and disappointment, her fellow inmates tended to leave her alone, which was just fine for a loner like she’d been.

 

Until Emma arrived in Storybrooke and learned who she really was, she never had a satisfactory explanation as to why she was so athletically gifted. While neither of her parents are imposing physical specimens, they are both gifted in their own ways. Her father, a man of lean frame, is farm boy sturdy from a youth spent bailing hay and mending fences. Naturally good with his hands, it is no wonder that under Princess Anna’s tutelage he so quickly developed into the renowned swordsman, Prince Charming. It is he Emma most resembles in her build and general physical skill set.

 

On the other hand, her mother possesses an agility that she does not often get to show off due to her current role as a mom and a school teacher. There was a time when Snow White lived in the forests, deftly climbing into the boughs of trees and maneuvering through extremely difficult terrain with an ease that is envious. Emma knows that because she witnessed her mother in action when she’d been sucked through Zelena’s time portal. Snow White in her element was an impressive woman of elusive grace and plentiful stamina, which illuminated Emma as to whom she inherited those traits from.

 

Among the female denizens of Storybrooke, few can rival Emma for pound-to-pound physical ability – except for Ruby, that is, who simply puts her to shame in most categories. Once in a high-stress situation, Emma had personally witnessed Ruby lift the front end of a car high enough to free a victim trapped beneath the wreckage of a rather grisly accident. The display had understandably flummoxed Emma. She known Ruby to possess incredible strength due to the wolf, but she hadn't imagined her friend to be capable of such colossal feats. And while sometimes Ruby’s stunts are worthy of envy, mostly Emma is simply awed by them.

 

Smilingly fondly at her deceptively herculean friend, Emma watches Ruby go about marking one board at a time, after which she cuts them with a circular saw according to the given specifications. Ruby's skill with the hand-guided saw is impressive considering this is her first major construction project.

 

That Ruby has picked up on the ins and outs of carpentry as deftly as she has does not really come as a surprise, though. Ruby is a hard worker, and extremely intuitive. Furthermore, her aptitude with any and all physical activities means that it is easy for her to learn new things. Hell, it had only taken Emma a day to teach a recently hired Ruby proper gun etiquette. By the end of their training session, the novice deputy was handling her newly issued Glock like a former secret service agent and shooting like a world-class markswoman. Being a werewolf, Ruby had explained, included the fringe benefits of a stable platform, keen sight, and remarkably steady hands, staple requirements for highly accurate shooting. That propensity for adapting her body to new skills is incredible and serves as one of the many reasons Ruby is so valuable an asset to the Sheriff’s department.

 

Aside from getting to watch Ruby do her thing, Emma is mostly enjoying the simplicity of some honest manual labor. Considering how much pleasure she is deriving from their project, thoughts of taking up remodeling begin cropping up again, and with the market in Storybrooke booming at present from another crop of refugees entering Storybrooke from Camelot, investing a portion of her savings into building a house or two to rent or sell as supplemental income seems both opportune and prudent.

 

Since getting out of prison, Emma has learned to appreciate the hard work involved in construction, but she has not had the opportunity to indulge in her hobby since she left Boston. Busy as she usually is between being the Sheriff of a booming town as well as the esteemed Savior who is generally expected to save said town whenever supernatural threats surface, there is not much in the way of free time outside of spending it with her family.

 

And it isn't that she resents her family for such demands on her time when the opposite is true. It is just that building things with her hands has long been an outlet for her energy, presenting a way to work off the tensions that came with the life she has chosen to lead. It had worked for her as a bail bond agent, and after so many years of shouldering far too many responsibilities in Storybrooke she is ready for something else to focus on that does not include magical interventions, investing crimes, or babysitting her siblings or her self-proclaimed nieces.

 

Since Ruby's off days align with her own, Emma also seriously considers offering Ruby a cut in the side business if her partner is amenable. Although Emma is perfectly aware that Ruby does not need money (Regina is loaded enough for neither woman to require income for the rest of their lives), Ruby is a proud woman – raised by an even prouder woman – who likes to make her own way, as was evidenced by the way she'd nearly worked herself to the bone to afford Regina's gorgeous engagement ring. Ruby prefers to avoid spending Regina's money where possible, and because of that, Emma thinks she will appreciate the chance to earn some additional bank.

 

Besides the obvious financial upsides, Emma believes it will be a rewarding experience to go into business with her friend, and not only for her own sake. During her time working with Habitat for Humanity, she had learned the process of constructing a home from the ground up, and knows it to be stimulating, especially for someone like Ruby, who enjoys meaningful physical labor. The work is demanding, as might be imagined, but in Emma's experience it always proved worth it if only to see the faces of the family gifted with the home when they stepped through the threshold for the first time.

 

Being involved in projects like Habitat which made such huge differences in the lives of strangers in need was incredibly fulfilling, and in a way that no 9-to-5 job could ever be. Doing those kinds of _pro bono_ projects became her way of giving back to parents who actually wanted to do better for their kids rather than giving up on them as she’d once believed hers had. And even though there would be different motivations in building a house now, she could still be responsible for creating something that someone else could call home. And who knows, perhaps if the extracurricular endeavor took off, she could start up a chapter of Habitat for Humanity in Storybrooke.

 

As selfless as Ruby is, Emma feels safe in her assumption that her friend will be interested, so she decides to sit down and lay out her idea as soon as possible, then let the chips fall where they may. If Ruby turns her down, Emma will just go it on her own. She's flown solo before, after all, and is perfectly capable of handling things by herself. But judging by how gung-ho Ruby was about this whole construction-project-slash-anniversary-gift, it will not be necessary.

 

On Friday the week before, Ruby had been all bouncy and energetic, keenly anticipating starting up their project the next day. Emma had tried to dampen those expectations of adventure, wanting to warn Ruby that they were in for a tough day. Ruby's enthusiasm was undeterred.

 

“I always get like this when I'm about to learn something new,” she'd buoyantly explained. “And I always wanted to learn how to build houses and stuff. Granny helped my grandfather build ours back in the Enchanted Forest, and she always used to talk about how gratifying it was. And since they say that it's best to start small and build yourself up, this little project is perfect, don't you think?”

 

Emma had agreed, and soon found herself almost as enthused as Ruby, which was not out of the ordinary. Ruby's excitement tends to be contagious, and besides that, it had been years since she built anything of significance. The most she had done since moving to Storybrooke was renovating a few rooms in the house she bought to live in with Killian. Nothing structural had been required to fix things to her liking, so she hadn't got to scratch that particular itch very much. But Ruby's incredibly thoughtful early anniversary gift to her wife gave Emma the perfect opportunity to flex her construction muscles, and by the time Friday night rolled around, she'd almost been too amped up to sleep.

 

That Saturday, they dug the footers for what would eventually become Regina's new gardening shed. Since Ruby had contracted the hardware store to deliver the materials at the crack of dawn, they were up-and-at-'em by 6 am. As it so turned out, that was a good thing seeing as they dug the footers by hand solely at Ruby's insistence. Starting out so early enabled them to mostly beat the heat.

 

That said, even though Ruby wound up doing more than half of the work did not prevent Emma from absolutely exhausting herself. Digging the trenches, installing the forms, and then troweling the freshly poured concrete into level was backbreaking labor. Ruby only listened to sense in hiring a professional company to pour the footers (and then return to pour the slab after they installed the short masonry retainer walls the following Monday morning) or else they wouldn’t have finished before the sun was at its peak and the heat was most unbearable. In the end, they got the job done, but both were worn ragged.

 

Framing the shed, however, has been nothing short of fun thus far for Emma. She has relished hearing the busy noise of a construction job, punctuated by every pop of the nail gun and the shrill whine of the circular saw as it buzzes through wood. Every _thwap_ of a hammer against a nail has been music to her ears, and the feeling of sweat trickling down her back and dripping from her chin came with a reminder that the menial work some consider beneath them could be just as satisfying as solving an intricate crime or using reality bending magic to defeat the latest foe who has threatened the entire town with annihilation.

 

Building things, Emma believes, is in the blood of human beings. It is our way as a species of staking a claim on existence, of putting some kind of indelible imprint upon the earth that will last beyond our lifetimes. The history books of this world teach that humans began their meteoric rise to power by fashioning tools before moving on to construct villages and communities, which grew into complex societies that would eventually evolve into cities and nations. Along with those developments came a new era of deeper thinking. Even then, though, people built rockets to carry them into space and out among the stars in a perpetual search for life, substance, and meaning beyond the earth that spawned them.

 

People build things, it is what they do, and as far as Emma is concerned, embracing that facet of humanity is as easy for her as it is enjoyable. She derives a deep, nearly spiritual pleasure from the process of standing up walls one at a time. Linking them together gives them strength enough to withstand the weight of the roof and walls and floors and ceilings that comprise a living space, which in turn makes the trappings of modern habitation possible.

 

To Emma, building a house is an analogy for what human relationships _should_ look like. The more together, the more unified in purpose people are, the stronger they will be. When properly constructed, a house can weather most of the forces nature throws against it, and from her perspective, the same can be said of relationships. Every wall tied into another is a friendship formed that will last a lifetime or a partnership that can withstand the worst trials of life sent to rend it asunder.

 

And while waxing philosophical about so simplistic a project may seem foolish to many, for her the comparisons make sense. In committing her time and effort to this project with Ruby and for Regina, she is building something much more inestimable than a gardening shed. Metaphorically speaking, the purpose of her efforts is to strengthen her friendships with two of the most important people in her life so that they are all drawn closer together into a durable and cohesive front. For some reason, she feels it is necessary, that not far down the line the bond she shares with Regina and Ruby will be put through a harrowing trial, and though she cannot predict the form this test will take, she wants them all to be ready for it whenever it happens.

 

“Here ya go,” Ruby calls, dragging Emma's attention from her meandering thoughts. She looks up to see Ruby carrying a cut board in her direction. “As requested.” She presents it to Emma with a big smile, the special kind that only Ruby can give and which is capable of brightening the darkest days.

 

Emma accepts the board and proceeds to study it, pretending to ensure it is the proper length and the ends cut at the correct angles. She notices Ruby fidget slightly, no doubt worrying she has done something wrong. Ruby had made a few mistakes at first, but since catching on her craftsmanship has been increasingly flawless. There is nothing at all wrong with the board, of course, as Emma simply enjoys teasing her best werewolf.

 

Finally returning Ruby's smile with one of her own, she winks before letting Ruby off the hook, so to speak. “Looks good! Thanks, Rubes.”

 

With a slight exhale that could be construed as relief, Ruby nods and then makes her way back over to cut another board. Smile still in place, Emma watches her go, inexpressibly grateful to be friends with someone so wonderful. Ruby’s friendship, irreplaceable as it is, is a gift that Emma intends to appreciate for the rest of her days. And as she carefully climbs her ladder, beam in hand, and proceeds to fasten it into place, she can’t help but feel blessed beyond measure.

 

Emma Swan was once an orphan, but now she has a family who adores her. They come in the form of a mother and a father who are pretty damn awesome and a son she is so proud of she could burst at the seams. Across the yard, her husband – a man she loves with all of her heart and who dotes on her endlessly – is chatting amiably with Regina, a woman who once was Emma's most bitter rival but who is now a constant ally who can be counted on no matter how dire the circumstance. And then there is Ruby, kind and considerate and fiercely loyal Ruby who gets down and dirty in the trenches with Emma on a daily basis, who is always there to encourage Emma whenever she is having a frustrating day at work, whose hugs chase away the most resilient shadows or the most viscous sadness, and who Emma knows will never, _ever_ abandon her like so many people who were supposed to have loved her have.

 

For that Lost Girl who once felt vulnerable to Peter Pan's cruel but relevant jabs, today is a great day to be alive. It is a day of vindication. Her loved one ledger is no longer in the red, but has flourished to the point that she now has an enviable profit of friends and family alike. Emma Swan is no longer a Lost Girl, for at long last she has been found.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll finish this up tomorrow with Ruby's chapter which contains all the RedQueen family feels.


	4. It's a Wonderful Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After finishing the project with Emma, Ruby indulges in some family time and then contemplates how very lucky she is.

It is almost 7 in the evening when Ruby unilaterally decides Emma’s work day is over. The sun has dipped just below the horizon, so it is beginning to cool off at a rapid pace. In addition to the dropping temperature, Emma has been getting increasingly sluggish for the past hour, which is no small cause for concern.

 

Since they are working on the roof, Ruby has been required to go up and down the ladder in order to deliver the 70 pound bundles of shingles for her co-worker to install. With every trip, she began to notice Emma dragging more and more. Twice the blonde had almost lost her footing as she shuffled around to install a new row, and had she toppled off the roof, she may well have broken one or several limbs, or even worse, landed on her head or back, incurring significant if not potentially fatal damage.

 

Not willing to take a chance with her friend's health, Ruby climbs the ladder, then heaves the latest bundle on her shoulder to the left of it. “Okay, that's it,” she calls out as she gestures at her friend to climb down. “I'm calling it for you. You've had enough for today.”

 

“Nonsense. ’M fine,” Emma protests, breathing heavily from her position kneeling atop the roof. Her tank-top is soaked through, as is Ruby's by now, but unlike Ruby, Emma is showing signs of acute exhaustion. In addition to the sluggish movement, she is starting to very slightly slur her words and her breathing is becoming labored.

 

Since pride is apparently preventing the stubborn blonde from recognizing how potentially perilous such a situation could be when working on a roof, Ruby feels honor bound to force the issue.

 

“No you aren’t,” she insists. “You've almost fell twice now. And since we're halfway done with the roof, there is no reason for you to stay when I can finish this myself in an hour tops.” When Emma opens her mouth to rebut the claim, Ruby interrupts her. “You've done enough, Emma. More than enough. I can finish this, I promise. So, please just listen to me for once. Go home to that handsome hubby of yours and take a nice long bath before you crawl into bed.”

 

Emma frowns deeply as if the suggestion is offensive. “I'm not gonna leave you here to finish this by yourself.”

 

“And yet you will,” Ruby counters teasingly. “You don't have a choice, my friend.” When Emma's eyes narrow, Ruby grins. “Don’t make me carry you down.”

 

Emma barks out a tired laugh. “I'd like to see you try.”

 

“We both know I could,” Ruby taunts, still grinning, “so don't even bother denying it. And besides, Regina would have my head if you passed out on me or God forbid, got hurt.”

 

“Psh,” Emma scoffs. “Told ya. 'M fine.”

 

“Says the woman whose eyes are currently unfocused and whose breathing and heart rate reveal her to be nearing the point of total collapse.”

 

Emma whines in displeasure at Ruby’s diagnosis. “No fair! You don't get to use your wolfy senses against me. I'm s'posed to be your friend.”

 

Ruby nods firmly. “That's _why_ I am using them on you, you stubborn ass.”

 

Emma protests by glaring at Ruby with a rather adorable pout upon her lips. “Hey! That's not nice. Shouldn’t be callin' me names after all I did to help you.”

 

Ruby agrees but remains resolute. “I am eternally grateful for your help, Emma, but if you don't come down from there right now I'm gonna make good on my promise.”

 

At that, Emma finally throws her hands up in surrender. “Ugh, _fine_! I'm comin'.” When Emma does not immediately begin moving, Ruby stares dubiously with one brow raised, causing Emma's entire countenance to sour. “I said I'm comin' down, Ruby, but first you need to get out of my way.”

 

Knowing that Emma's fatigue is factoring into her sudden grumpiness, Ruby sighs and acquiesces, but not before giving Emma a pointed glare to which Emma responds by childishly sticking out her tongue. Ruby chucks at the puerile reaction before climbing down the ladder. Halfway down, she hears shuffling atop the roof, convincing her that Emma is actually heeding the warning, so she continues on until she is back on solid ground once again.

 

After backing away a step, she glances up, only to be met by the sight of Emma's denim covered ass hanging over the roof as she maneuvers herself onto the ladder. It is an opportunity to goad Emma that is too juicy to pass up.

 

Grinning again, she calls up, “That’s a nice caboose you got there, Swan! Let's see if you can still move it after you've been sitting on it the past hour.”

 

The dig is likely to rile Emma up, since she has been the one installing the shingles and thus doing the more technical side of the work while Ruby played the pack mule. Several times, Ruby facetiously pointed out the disparity in effort between their jobs, to which Emma always shot back a witty retort relating back to relative brain power. It quickly became a running joke between them that Emma is the brains whereas Ruby is the brawn, of which neither took much offense because in a lot of ways it is true.

 

But with Emma running on fumes, Ruby is aware she is prodding the metaphorical bull. Although unsure exactly how Emma will react to the teasing, Ruby feels comfortable enough with their friendship to find out.

 

“When I get down there,” Emma shoots back, “I'll let you experience what it’s like after I knock you on yours!”

 

Ruby laughs at what is clearly a half-serious threat. “As if you could. Who won the last 10 rounds we sparred?”

 

“Oh, don't even,” Emma drawls, now making her way down the ladder. She does not bother to halt her progress as she makes her reply. “Those fights aren't even close to fair and you know it.” By the time she has finished the last word, Emma has stepped off of the ladder. She immediately whirls to poke Ruby's shoulder with her finger to accent her next words. “You. Are. A. Cheater.”

 

Ruby gapes at the accusation. “And just how do I cheat?”

 

Emma stares at Ruby as if it should be obvious. “C'mon! Like I can seriously beat a woman who has unnatural reflexes, strength, _and_ endurance because she's a freakin' werewolf.”

 

“Well, guilty as charged, I suppose,” Ruby concedes, shrugging off Emma's moderate irritation. “But you gotta remember that also means every now and then I turn into a four-legged, furry beast who gets yelled at by my wife because I shed on the floors and furniture, terrorize innocent little squirrels and rabbits, and lick myself 'inappropriately.’”

 

For a moment, Emma stands motionless, trying and failing spectacularly to remain stoic despite the smile and bursts of giggles that break through her facade. But then Ruby gets tickled at Emma's hilarious expression, which is red-faced and somewhere between exasperation and hysterical laughter, and when Ruby starts laughing, so does Emma. Pretty soon they are both doubled over and hee-hawing until their stomachs hurt and tears are streaming down their eyes.

 

At least a minute passes before they began to settle down. By the time their laughter has dried up, they have gravitated closer until their bodies are nearly flush. Resting her head against Ruby's shoulder, Emma wraps her arms around Ruby's waist and then ducks her head onto Ruby's shoulder. She gives out a tired, but happy sigh.

 

“I love you, Rubes,” she whispers, lips tickling Ruby's skin. “Thanks for the laugh.”

 

With affection for her amazing friend welling up inside, Ruby draws Emma in tighter and places a kiss to her temple. “I love you, too, Em, and you’re welcome.”

 

For the longest time, they stand there under the low light of the fading sun, sharing a hug that warms Ruby from the inside out. She briefly considers her life before Emma and after Emma, and is suddenly unbearably grateful that Emma made the choice to remain in Storybrooke all those years ago. As much as Emma likes to argue that her hand had been forced, Ruby knows that is not the truth. Emma was not coerced to stay, but had chosen to, and Ruby is so very glad of it.

 

As much as she loves Regina and her kids, she needs Emma in her life, needs Emma's friendship and advice and wry outlook on life. Her days are better for spending so much time working with Emma, and that translates into a happier home life with her family – not that she hadn't been happy before, it's just a little bit sweeter to come home having spent a difficult but rewarding day working with her other best friend. She hopes that Emma knows this, and determines to make sure to do something nice for the blonde, especially since Emma has just worked so hard to help Ruby build her Regina’s anniversary present.

 

As if reading Ruby's thoughts, Emma pulls away, places a reverent kiss on Ruby's forehead, and then shifts so that they standing are side-by-side. After slinging an arm around Ruby's shoulder, a cocky grin forms on her lips as she studies their work.

 

“We did a good job, Deputy,” Emma comments, pride coloring her tone, both for what they have built and in Ruby.

 

Blushing slightly, Ruby leans into Emma and rests her head against a strong shoulder that is always there for her to cry on if she has need of it – one she has availed herself of many times over the years after a blow-out argument with Regina.

 

“Couldn't have done it without ya, Sheriff.”

 

After that, Ruby ushers Emma inside with the command she at least say goodbye to Regina and the kids before she leaves. At first Emma protests, but then Ruby gives her “the look” which quickly changes the Savior’s mind. Ruby says her goodbyes only after she has safely handed off responsibility for Emma to her wife, who picks up on Emma’s state immediately and springs into mother hen mode.

 

“Come along, Swan, let’s get you rehydrated before you head home,” Regina orders in the same tone she uses on the kids when they are frustrating her endlessly. Leading Emma by the hand, she tromps toward the kitchen, muttering about stubborn blondes who still haven’t learned how take care of themselves even though they are a “grown ass woman.”

 

Using only her eyes, Emma pleads to Ruby for rescue as she is dragged along in Regina’s wake, helpless to resist Regina when she has flipped on the Head-Bitch-In-Charge switch. All Ruby can do is laugh, not even a little envious of Emma’s position because she knows exactly how it feels.

 

With Emma in good hands, Ruby returns outside and goes back to work, where over the next two hours she labors on to complete the roof. To be honest, it takes her longer than she’d thought it would as she is not practiced as Emma is at installing shingles and due to her having to rely on her observation of Emma’s work. It turns out the process is not difficult for Ruby to pick up, yet by the time she finishes, the effort of lugging the heavy bundles of shingles up the ladder and then installing them has nearly depleted her normally vast stores of energy.

 

But finish she does, and after climbing down the ladder and stowing her tools in the completed shed, Ruby trudges across the lawn to the back door. The second she enters the house, she pulls off her sweat-soaked cap and damp tank top, stripping back down to her bikini top. She'd put her extra layer back on after depositing Emma inside, but the air conditioning in the house combined with the moist garments and her overheated body sends a chill through her that penetrates into the marrow of her bones.

 

Not wanting to waste any time getting in the shower, she quickly tosses the soiled items into the laundry room and then makes her way upstairs toward the bedroom she shares with her wife. As she passes through the hallway, she hears the sound of plastic clinking, along with familiar voices issuing commands and shouting dramatic speeches between fits of high-pitched giggling. Mixing with them is the chesty timbre of her wife's voice joining in the fun of their game.

 

Ruby cannot help but grin as she approaches the door. Based on what she has heard thus far, Regina is playing the part of Captain Hook and no doubt wielding a toy saber in the hand not covered with a toy hook. Normally it is Ruby stuck in that role since Regina has no fondness for pirates, even for the charming one she semi-affectionately refers to as either Captain Guy-liner or Captain Chest-hair depending on her mood. However, with the parent normally sacrificed to that role otherwise occupied, Regina has apparently been drafted into it whether she likes it or not. And while Ruby really does need a shower in the worst way (she stinks to high heaven and is still imperceptibly trembling from the sudden cold on her skin), she can’t pass up the opportunity to see Regina in action as the infamous captain of the Jolly Roger.

 

Very carefully, she eases herself up to the door just in time to hear Sophia cry out, “Oh, no! They found us, Cap'n!”

 

“Royal Navy spotted on the starbread bow,” Amelia adds, every bit as enthusiastic in her call. Her mispronunciation of starboard elicits a muted giggle from Ruby.

 

Her kids are a handful at the best of times and downright menaces at the worst, but she loves them to pieces and is so proud of them that she can hardly stop telling people about them. By now, half the town is sure to be tired of her sappy expressions whilst she exuberantly recounts anecdotes of Sophia and Amelia's antics.

 

“Ya know what to do, mates,” Regina then calls out, doing her best imitation of Hook, which is pretty awful but also absolutely adorable. Ruby sniggers under her breath at hearing it, now grinning like an idiot. “Ready the cannons and prepare to fire on my command!”

 

“Aye, aye, Cap'n!” both girls reply.

 

Ruby sticks her head in the door just in time to see Amelia and Sophia shuffle atop their bed to the right hand side. They busily arrange themselves next to Regina, who is sitting cross-legged at the head of the bed, sword in one hand, hook in the other, a menacing scowl on her face.

 

Ruby announces her presence by stepping in at her full height, hands on her hips. “What’s going on in here?”

 

Rather than being greeted with enthusiasm as she had hoped to be, Regina gives Ruby a devilish smile. “Oh, no! It’s an enormous sea monster!” she exclaims as she winks at Ruby to play along. When the children react with excited chirping as they scramble over to the other side of the bed, Regina orders, “Defend the Jolly Roger from this scourge of the seas! Fire at will!”

 

Her daughters are having so much fun making pretend noises of cannons blasting that Ruby slides into her assigned role without complaint, deftly dodging their invisible attacks as she advances on their position. The closer she gets the more the girls chatter with anticipation, so as she nears the bed she gives them a ferocious roar for show.

 

“Looks like I’ll be having two little pirates for supper,” she comments in a deepened ‘monster voice’ then to the squeals of said little pirates, lunges to gently tackle them both – one in each arm – back onto the bed. The girls shriek with laughter, to which Ruby responds with her own mock chortles as she begins to assault them one at a time with tickles and kisses.

 

“Ew! Mama, you stink!” Sophia protests after a moment as Ruby turns her attention from her sister onto her and smothers her face with kisses.

 

“What?” Ruby mocks offense, drawing away with dramatically widened eyes. “I thought I smelled like roses!”

 

“No way!” retorts her brunette child, “you're all sweaty and you stiiiiiiink!” As Regina chuckles under her breath, Amelia both nods and hums her assent.

 

“How dare you!” Ruby returns, hand at her chest as if wounded. “You'll pay for that insult, pirate!” She then curls her index fingers into hooks and starts to tickle Sophia's sides until her daughter is laughing uncontrollably. When Amelia begins tittering sympathetically along with her sister, Ruby switches her attention to the raven-haired child again. “I'll get you, too, you little rapscallion!” she cries, jumping on Amelia with a playful growl. All the while, Amelia screeches joyfully and attempts to bat away her mother's weaponized index fingers.

 

“No, Mama, no! Don't!” Amelia cackles as Sophia rolls away to get seek protection from her mother-slash-Captain. While Regina wraps the little pirate up in her arms, Ruby easily evades Amelia's flailing attempts to escape her attack in order to land a well-placed tickle to the vulnerable spot underneath her ears. Her daughter descends into raucous peals of laughter. “Stop!” she protests through breathless mirth. “No, Mama! Don't! Stop! Don't! Stop!!”

 

Ruby barks out a laugh of her own. “Okay, I won't stop!” she exclaims, and then proceeds to attack Amelia again, switching between her daughter's ears and sides as Amelia continues her fruitless protests.

 

After a few seconds of Amelia squealing out her oxymoronically joyous frustration, Sophia at last decides to come to her rescue. “I'll save you, Amie!” she yells, and then launches herself onto Ruby's back. But Ruby is ready for it, easily shifts to the side and then maneuvers her arm fluidly beneath Sophia's body in order to wrangle her down next to her sister. “No, Mama!” Sophia gasps upon being caught. Soon enough she joins in with her sister's laughter as Ruby tickles them both mercilessly.

 

“Mommy! Save us!” The girls plea in concert a moment later, and before Ruby can even react, Regina pulls her away and fluidly traps Ruby against her front. As an extra measure of security, she winds her legs around Ruby's waist and wraps her arms around Ruby’s shoulders.

 

“I've got her!” Regina crows triumphantly. Ruby can hear the face-splitting grin in her wife’s tone. “Slay the vicious beast before she gets loose!”

 

“Get her!” Sophia then cries, launching herself at her subdued monster-mother. When Amelia follows suit a split second later, Ruby finds herself beset by little fingers tickling over her exposed skin.

 

She chastises herself for not putting a shirt on over her bikini top as there is plentiful access to all of her most ticklish areas. Even so she doesn’t bother to struggle against her kids as she lets them have their fun, and makes sure to laugh and protest more than is necessary when they actually hit said spots. So that Regina can be a hero and restrain her again, Ruby feigns several escape attempts. While wrestling abed in such a way is not something Regina generally indulges in, even she is laughing openly before long, sharing in the moment of familial fun.

 

By the time they are all laughed out, the four of them have become tangled together, panting tiredly. Ruby soon feels a nose press against her neck, and then hears a deep inhale.

 

“Whew!” Regina then exclaims, exaggerating disgust for effect. “You girls were right. Your Mama stinks!”

 

At that, Sophia looks up at Ruby through taunting eyes. In a sing-song voice, she mocks, “Told you so, Mama! You stiiiiiiiiiink!” The way her little nose curled up as she drew out the word makes Ruby so inordinately happy that she melts into Regina's embrace.

 

After giving Ruby an affectionate squeeze, Regina pushes Ruby off of her to sit up. “Well,” she says, eyeing Ruby critically but with no small amount of affection, “I think Mama ought to go take a shower, so that she can be ready for story time later. Stinky mamas don't get to read stories to good little girls.”

 

“Yay!” both girls shout, exuberant over the mention of story time.

 

“Go now, Mama!” Amelia then insists. “You _have_ to be ready for story time. You just _have_ to! I need to know what happens to Bilbo in the cave!”

 

“Yeah! So do I, Mama! Hurrrrryy!” Sophia agrees.

 

Ruby chuckles in amusement as she pushes herself off the bed to stand. “Alright, alright, I'm going.” When she reaches the door, she hears Regina call out her name, so she turns back to look at her wife, brows raised in question. “Whatcha need?”

 

“Nothing,” Regina answers, eyes sparkling. “I just wanted to say thank you for the hard work you and Emma did today on my present and also for our few minutes of fun. I needed that.”

 

Ruby tilts her head, eyes crinkling with a smile as she remembers being thanked similarly not too long ago. “Anything for you, babe. I love you and those two little piratical munchkins over there.”

 

“And we love you, too,” Regina returns as she gathers the children up, one in each arm. “Don't we, girls?”

 

Both nod vehemently, instinctually recognizing and respecting the sentimentality of the moment.

 

“Yep!” Amelia adds, popping the 'p', while Sophia stares on, gazing at Ruby with far more maturity than a four year old should have. In a much quieter tone, she breathes out, “I love you, Mama.”

 

“I love you, too, kiddos. More you than you'll ever know,” Ruby replies, choked up with emotion. And it is true. She loves her babies with the truest love that is possible for a person to give to their child, for they were made of the truest love that grown ups are capable of feeling for one another. Her children are her living, breathing miracles. She wakes each and every day in awe of them.

 

So that her kids do not see her cry, Ruby gives them one last smile and a wave, blows a kiss to them all (which Regina lovingly catches and rubs into each of their cheeks), and then steps out into the hall. As she makes her way toward her bedroom, her breath begins to hitch. Though she wants to cry, it is only after she is safely enclosed in the sanctuary of her bedroom and has perched upon upon the edge of the bed that she permits the tears to fall.

 

For at least five minutes, Ruby sits and silently weeps, eyes blurred and snot pouring from her nose. But rather than being sad or depressed, her tears are of the very best kind. Overwhelmed by the depths of her love for her family, she is simply so happy that she hardly knows how to let it out without seeming crazy. Sometimes all she wants is to run through the streets at midnight, shouting out her joy like a maniac for all the world to hear; instead, she sequesters herself in one of the spare bedrooms so she can have a good cry, not wanting Regina or the kids to mistake her tears as sorrow or grief or hurt.

 

It often seems so surreal that this is her reality. Somehow the universe has seen fit to bestow upon her the privilege of being loved by Regina, who to Ruby is the most incredible woman to ever live, while at the same time being permitted to share her own seemingly inexhaustible supply of love with Regina. As if that is not enough, their love has proven powerful enough to transcend death and to create life. And although Ruby still does not know what Regina did to bring her back to life those handful of years ago, most of the time she simply does not care. All that matters is that Regina loved her enough to perform a miracle.

 

Theirs is a love that defies description and which accomplishes the impossible, the proof of which can be found in their 4-year-old daughters who would not exist were that not true. Together, they have beaten the odds and overcome the obstacles that fate laid in their path intending send them plummeting headlong towards destruction. That they are still together having endured so much adversity is worth celebrating, worth crying over even, especially since Ruby has so many reminders of how it could have all ended in tragedy.

 

To this day she still looks at herself in the mirror every now and then to lament the scars marring her skin. Those raised silver lines littering her back and the crescent shaped remnants of the wound that had killed her serve as proof of the hell she went through. But even in her worst moments of self-loathing, she remembers her reasons for living, her reasons for pressing on through the brief bouts of depression. If the stripes laid upon her were the price she had to pay for Amelia to be alive today and for her family to be happy and whole, then they were worth it. She would take them all a thousand times over if it meant she came home to Regina, Sophie, and Amie, if it meant she could still pick up the phone and shoot the breeze with her favorite punk, Henry, or trade bad jokes and sing songs from musicals with Zelena, or go hang out with her best friends Emma and Snow and Charming.

 

After all of her years of struggling to find meaning in her life, Ruby is determined to cherish every tear, for each represents a precious memory to be savored.

 

When her fit of crying finally ceases, Ruby climbs into the shower where she hastily but thoroughly cleanses herself of the days grime. Once she has dried off and dressed, she returns to her wife and kids to play before bedtime. An hours worth of adventures with various Princesses later, she and Regina wrangle the kids to bed, then read a chapter of the Hobbit to them after tucking them in. When they bid the children goodnight, no affection is spared in their kisses.

 

With the girls asleep, Ruby retires with Regina to their own haven of silken sheets where, after changing into their pajamas, they cuddle up together in each others arms. It takes only minutes for Ruby to succumb to exhaustion.

 

Early the next morning, she wakes to the sun streaming through the windows, and her thoughts immediately turn to the newly erected building standing just beyond the bedroom window in the back yard. Sighing with a fulfillment that reaches down to her toes, she can only lay stricken with wonder at how lucky she is. Her happiness is more profound than anyone has a right to, and it is almost entirely due to her amazing children and the incredible woman she is so proud to call her wife. That pride is the entire reason that she’d built the gardening shed.

 

To Regina, Ruby’s present was thoughtful but also straightforward, a convenient place for her gardening tools and supplies, but to Ruby it is not so simple or straightforward. Much like Regina's beloved apple tree represented the loss of her innocence and of her beloved father, the shed is a monument to Ruby's happiness, a four-walled symbol of her love for her family, and she had built it with her heart as much as with her hands. In the light of what it stands for, she hopes to see it stand for decades to come, if only to remind her of her measureless fortune.

 

Nestling her head against the exposed portion of Regina's steadily rising and falling chest, she closes her eyes and allows herself to drift back off to sleep. The kids are not up yet judging by the relative silence in the rest of the house, so she decides that a lazy Sunday morning is in order. After yesterday’s hard, she deserves it. And as she drifts away into a peaceful slumber, she can’t help but feel forever grateful to the universe for her wonderful life.

 

 _George Bailey_ , _eat your heart out,_ she mutters to herself, then smiles against Regina’s skin as sleep claims her once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really am not sure where this piece came from, but here it is. 100% fluff, a rarity for me. Enjoy it while it lasts. ;)
> 
> My next project is to finish up the sequel to the Price of Destiny. I'm already deep in it. I'd say it's 85% completed. But I'm having some trouble slogging through the last chapters because my other story that I'm also almost done with - and which might be my most favorite story I've ever written - is begging for my attention. But I've determined to get the PoD sequel done because it's been almost a year since I started posting the original, and I thought it'd be neat to try and post the follow up on the anniversary of it being published. Whether that happens or not is still undetermined, but that is my goal. Until then, I don't anticipate posting any more material. 
> 
> So, for now it's farewell. See y'all in the next RedQueen adventure!


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